“And I couldn’t let her sic her hellhounds on you. They’d rip you to bits.”
“She’ll probably do that anyway. Calling the hounds off was never part of the deal. All she offered was a one-for-one exchange: the falcon for Kane’s release. That’s where I got stuck. It’s an impossible bargain. No matter how many times I thought it through, I couldn’t come up with an acceptable solution.”
“Besides,” Mab put in, “there’s even more at stake.” Awe crept into her voice. “The white falcon can kill the Morfran.”
“I was as surprised about that as anybody,” Dad said. “In fact, I was planning to come over and discuss it before you called me here. I don’t know if Vic told you, Mab, but I’ve been trying to read the book. And now I finally understand what it was telling me, telling the falcon part of this brain. The Morfran is the falcon’s food.” He clicked his beak in what was perhaps the avian equivalent of smacking one’s lips. “Better than cheeseburgers.”
“What happened last night, Evan?”
“I was perched on a rooftop near the harbor, looking out at the water and trying out different things I might say to Anne. I can’t seem to figure out a way to break this”—he opened and closed his wings—“to her gently. So there I was, watching the planes come and go. Now that I think of it, Mab, I probably saw yours land. Anyway, all of a sudden there was this clamoring in my head. And hunger. Good lord, I’ve never felt so hungry. Like what I felt while reading the book, but stronger. I didn’t even try to understand what was happening; I simply let this body act. I let the hunger guide me, and you saw what happened. The falcon wanted the Morfran.”
“You expelled it from Bonita. That’s the name of the zom—” I glanced at Kane. “I mean, the PDH who attacked Mab.” Dad’s talons hadn’t done her face much good, but he’d saved her life by getting the Morfran out before it fed on her. Not that that mattered after Pryce grabbed her again.
“It’s clear,” Mab said, “that the falcon must remain at liberty to help us in the coming war. If we act now to destroy the Morfran, Pryce’s demon troops will never gain the strength to march out of Hell. We could prevent the war.”
Silence fell upon the table. I closed my eyes against visions of Boston burning, of death and slaughter, of a bloody sword in my own hand. If only we could turn the path of fate so that instead of solidifying into reality, those visions would dissolve and fade like a bad dream. With the falcon’s help, we might have a chance.
“So,” Kane said, “let’s look at what we’re dealing with, point by point.” His logical lawyer brain was taking control of the conversation. Good. He spoke dispassionately, holding up his free hand and counting off each point on his fingers. “One, there’s my bargain with the Night Hag. Two, there’s her threat to kill Vicky.” He paused and looked at my father. “I’ve hired four of the country’s top witches to shield her apartment during the full moon, if we can convince her to stay home.”
“I already told you I can’t promise that. And I still think you’re wasting your money. That charm I wore didn’t keep the Night Hag away; she blew it apart like dandelion fluff. When the Night Hag comes after me, nothing will stop her.”
“Unless,” Mab said, “we can think of a way to make Mallt-y-Nos call off her hounds.” She nodded at Kane. “Please continue.”
“Three”—he ticked off another finger—“the white falcon carries the spirit of Vicky’s father. Four, the Night Hag wants the falcon. And five, the falcon can kill the Morfran—but only if it’s free of the hag’s control.”
Each point felt like a hundred-pound weight settling on my shoulders. “See?” I said. “It’s impossible.”
“Hush, child. You can’t think that way. There’s always a solution.” But the way the minutes stretched out, everyone staring gloomily at the table, seemed to contradict that notion.
“Okay.” Dad’s voice made me jump. “Let’s say Vic did hand me over. Without the gauntlet, I mean—that was never part of the deal, right?”
“That’s right.”
“I’ll escape again. The first time the hag sends me to dive-bomb some poor soul she’s hunting, I’ll fly away. Same as before.”
“It’s too risky.” Mab shook her head. “Mallt-y-Nos would not have proposed the exchange without some way of binding the falcon to her. If she gets her hands on you, Evan, I’m afraid there’ll be no flying away this time.”
“What about a substitute?” Kane said.
“Where would we get one?” I asked. “It’s not like they sell white falcons at pet stores.”
“True, but we might get something that’s close enough. Remember when I was stuck in wolf form? Roxana Jade created a charm so that everyone who looked at me saw a German shepherd. We know that charm worked. If we got a different bird—a parakeet or a canary or something—and the charm gave it the appearance of the white falcon . . .”
“It wouldn’t work.” I shook my head. “The bird would have to wear the charm somewhere, and the hag will inspect every inch before she releases you.”
“I believe Mr. Kane has the right idea,” Mab said, her eyes alight. “Although we can effect the substitution much more simply. Victory, you will contact the Night Hag. Tell her you’ve agreed to the exchange, and set up a time and place.”
“And then what? If not Dad or a charmed canary, what can I give her?”
“Me, of course. I’ll shift into a white falcon.”
21
I DIDN’T LIKE IT. IF HANDING DAD OVER TO THE NIGHT HAG was too risky, it was an equally bad idea to give her Mab. If anything went wrong, my aunt could end up as a hostage, or worse.
“Nonsense, child.” Mab waved away my objections. “I’ve thought it through. We’ll make a replica of the gauntlet, and you’ll offer that to Mallt-y-Nos if—and only if—she promises to prevent her hounds from attacking you. She’ll want to test it, of course. I’ll be close by, and when she calls I’ll arrive immediately. When she’s convinced of the gauntlet’s authenticity, I don’t doubt she’ll be willing to give whatever you want in exchange for it.”
“But you said she must have some way of binding Dad to her. I don’t want her doing that to you.”
“I’m not a falcon, child. As soon as she’s released Mr. Kane and vowed not to attack you, I’ll resume my usual form.”
Something would go wrong. I could feel it. I argued; I reasoned. I even considered pulling rank—if Mab really thought I was the Lady of the Cerddorion, maybe I should use that to my advantage. But I couldn’t bear the thought of my aunt on her knees before me again. It wasn’t right.
So eventually I agreed. I couldn’t think of a better plan, and I’d sacrificed weeks to my own indecision. As soon as darkness returned and she could ride forth, I’d call the Night Hag and set up our exchange.
Kane stood, announcing he had to get to the office. He said a general good-bye. Mab replied that it was a pleasure to see him again, but Dad fixed him with a cold predator’s stare. I got up to walk him to the door.
“Your father doesn’t like me.” He said it as though puzzled. Kane was a charmer, and most people responded warmly to him. He had his enemies, of course, but they were usually political. His eyes held a question: What did I do?
I thought I knew. It wasn’t anything Kane did; it was who he was. But that was Dad’s problem, not Kane’s, and I intended to have it out with my father as soon as Kane left.
“I’m sorry he was rude. You know how some fathers are. He’s not used to the idea of me dating.”
“Of you dating, or of you dating a werewolf?”
Kane was right on the money, but I didn’t want to go there now. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever the issue, it’s his problem, not yours.” My demon mark twinged as I thought about how unfair Dad was being. Kane had dedicated his life to fighting discrimination. He shouldn’t have to face it from his girlfriend’s father. “I’ll make sure he understands that.”
Kane pulled me into his arms for a kiss. “Thanks for standing by me. For saying what you said. Those are words I’ll never get tired of hearing.”
So before he left, we said them again.
WHEN KANE HAD GONE, I RETURNED TO THE KITCHEN. WITH each step across the living room, my irritation grew. My demon mark heated up to a slow burn, but the anger felt good. Dad had no right to judge Kane before he even knew him. It was an insult to both of us, and I wasn’t going to put up with it.
I slammed open the kitchen door. “Dad,” I yelled, “you were totally out of line.”
Two heads turned to me. Mab muttered something about more tea and went over to the sink. My father’s sharp, rainbow-eyed stare irritated me further. Okay, so it’s impossible for a falcon to look contrite, but all I could see was defiance.
“You met my boyfriend for the first time, and you acted like . . . like . . . I don’t even know what.”
“Like a concerned father.” Dad’s voice was softer than his expression. “Two things, Vic. First, the whole thing was a complete surprise. I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”
Was it really true I’d never mentioned Kane to my dad? I had a sinking feeling it was, but that only stoked the anger building inside me.
“Second,” Dad continued, “the guy’s a werewolf. There’s no worse match for one of our kind—you know that, Vic.”
I’d known it, but hearing him say the words made my simmering anger boil over into rage. I stood there unable to speak, my fists clenched. My demon mark felt like a hot coal inside my skin.
Dad went on. “I’m sure you like him, but you need to nip this thing in the bud before he gets serious. You know what werewolves are like. Once they start sniffing around, before you know it they’re pressuring you to start a pack. It’s not that I’m prejudiced or anything. It’s their nature. Instinct is strong in werewolves. Sooner or later, it always wins out. And then where will you be? Stuck at home with a wolf cub while the demons run rampant.”